parenthood
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The Silence After Your Read this Poem is Political
Ignoring your symptoms and coming to work because a paycheck that’s eight hours short won’t let you replace your shoes with cracked soles for another month is political. The number of PTO hours you’re allowed is political. Whether it takes two months or three of missed rent before you’re living in the street is political.… Continue reading
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You are Right to Fear Me
your children watch me daily and God forbid they learn a different way to be kind to choose themselves to honor other people ‘s autonomyand right to self-determination to find their own liberation in the fray of mistakes and lessons and grace, the soft nature of things space to figure it out what a scary… Continue reading
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My Mental Peace Looks Like
The people who are making more money than me and seeing my vacation pictures at a place that’s a one-hour drive away from home are not pitying my children because our family trips don’t start at airports. It’s perfectly OK to run into the women who have given me their clothes that no longer fit… Continue reading
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A Love Letter for the Children
Leave space for dreaming, my beloveds, I’m sorry that most of your memories of me are of rushing, talking about the big and cruel world preparing you for the big and scary future concepts and contexts flooding, obeying, legislating, blowing up you, puzzle pieces in a chaotic big picture that takes too much effort to… Continue reading
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My preschooler has strep and I’m entering numbers on a spreadsheet.
Imagine calling off work when your kids are sick and still being able to pay your bills.I imagine sick kids would be able to get enough rest, as many days as they need.I imagine they would heal faster.I imagine they would grow up accustomed to having their needs centered.I imagine there would be way fewer… Continue reading
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Ten Thousand Martyred Children
are on my mind along with bus schedules I am the lady crying on the CTA challenging my seething heart to not turn away from the images of hospitals under siege, white sheets enshrouding somebody’s beloved, gaping wounds and howling, sky-tearing grief while listening to street names rationing my breaking heart into the handful of… Continue reading